Flashbacks
by stacks.of.books
Summary: Flashback for There's Freedom in Deception. Told from Andy's point of view. Prompts from dvlwears prada over at livejournal. Micro fics told slightly out of order. Can be read as a stand a lone but written as a companion piece to larger story.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Flashbacks, a collection of micro fics

Characters: Miranda/Andy

Word Count: unknown

Rating: PG

Summary: Micro fics from Andy's point of view

Author's Note:So at first I thought this would be fun. Looked at a few prompts from dvlwears_prada over at livejournal. Maybe write a couple for the prompt fest inspired by mxrolkr. Next thing I know I'm working on back stories I hadn't planned on exploring and trying to work it into my current story. Constructive criticism is deeply appreciated.

**I'd also like to dedicate this to Ms. Rugby. Thanks for listening to me while I tried to figure out where to place this.**

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><p><strong>Slow Ascent<strong>

Amelia Andréa stood behind a curtained off area to the side. He father had died many years ago and her step father had the flu and couldn't be here. Instead her cousin René had stepped in. She didn't love him. He knew that. A Queen needed a Consort. After all it wasn't a big deal, just a marriage. They could be happy together she thought. No, she'd never be happy without her.

Nodding to René, she began her slow ascent to the balcony where the minster waited to bless their joining.

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><p><strong>Empty Glass<strong>

She looked at the test in her hand. The plus sign was vivid; there was no mistaking the result. Her grandmother will be overjoyed. So will her husband. So will her kingdom. Everyone would be happy but she didn't feel anything. Her mother always said she should try to view things from a glass half full perspective instead of the glass half empty. What did it say about her as a mother, if she looked at the test and only saw an empty glass?

* * *

><p><strong>1000 Pieces<strong>

He had drawn 1000 pieces of clothing but had paired it down to 50. "This," he pointed to his sketches. "This is what I want to design. Can you help me?" Andy looked it over. He was young and still in college but there was real talent there.

"You have to finish school. No more hanging out with those trust fund kids. I'm not paying for your education so you can waste it by sleeping late and missing class."

He nodded eagerly. "I will, I swear."

"Okay, I'll help you get started. What will you call it?"

"Thermopolis Designs"

* * *

><p><strong>Perfect Timing<strong>

She should have been out with Bea. But Bea was a little feverish and she didn't want to take a chance with her falling ill, so they headed home. She really did have perfect timing she thought. She'd walked into one of the 850 rooms and found her secretary and her husband locked in a kiss. She should have been more upset but all she could think was at least she had Bea from this marriage. She was the best thing in her life. Andy walked back out of the room. She'd fire her secretary tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Foreign Accent<strong>

It didn't matter how often she spoke in French or how articulate she was, as soon as she landed in Paris she was treated like a common foreigner. American, they'd sneer and whisper when they thought she couldn't hear them. Parisian, she'd think back. She asked someone once, why. "Pourquoi pensez-vous que je suis américaine?

"Foreign Accent," they'd answered back. It didn't bother her anymore. Not like it had when she was younger.

She stepped off the plane. Welcome to Paris Fashion Week she thought. At least she'd only be stuck in the city for a day.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Flashbacks

Characters: Miranda/Andrea

Word Count: 100 words or less in each of 5 drabbles

Rating: PG-13

Prompt: mxrolkr's Two Word Prompt Fest, who in turn inspired ioaz to add to the list and gave me some ideas to work with

Summary: Five pieces as a supplement to There's Freedom in Deception

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything and I haven't used a beta at all.

A/N: I really love the idea of writing little glimpse into Andy's past. These two word prompts gives me just enough to work with. They're also easier to write on the bus every day and save the heavy writing for my home pc.

Prompts: 19) Bright Idea, 74) Black Suit, 8) Stereotypical Cliché, 29) Tough Choices, 37) Second Thoughts

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><p><strong>Bright Idea<strong>

"It's so boring here. Why don't we ever go somewhere tropical?"

She should have left Lily in San Francisco that summer. All she had done was complain.

"Come on let's go for a drive. I've got a great idea."

They ended up on a long stretch of road. The kind of road with two small hills that caused your stomach to drop if you drove too fast.

Lily hit the gas and they flew towards them. She was going too fast. The car flipped twice.

There's a scar in her hairline from the stitches now. Lily and her bright idea.

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><p><strong>Black Suit<strong>

He's always there in the background. It was annoying two years ago. It's aggravating now.

She wants a life. A date. God, how is she ever supposed to move from kissing to other things when there's a guy just standing there watching.

No one wants to even hang out with her anymore. Just Lily. As Princess she thought it would be different. Now she's always alone even when surrounded by people.

She looks back. Yeah, I see you in the corner, with your black suit, sticking out like a sore thumb. There's no way you're going to college with me.

* * *

><p><strong>Stereotypical Cliché<strong>

Mia cradled her head in her hands. Great, she thought.

It was the first year of university. It shouldn't have happened. It couldn't happen. But it had happened just the same. She'd fallen for her older T.A. Her female T.A.

It was her first friendship with someone who didn't know who she was. No pressure or expectations. Just Mia Andréa and Stacy. Now she's fucked it all up.

She's turned into a stereotypical cliché. At least she hasn't become vegan and taken up yoga.

Just great, she lets her head fall to the desk. She can never tell Lily this.

* * *

><p><strong>Tough Choices<strong>

"Are you sure Robert?"

He wants to change his name to René. He wants to change his life.

She grabbed the milk from the fridge and two glasses.

He wants to fit in like you, he says. She's not sure changing her name helped. But she can't tell him that, he's just 14.

"Milk?" He asked nodding to the container in my hand.

"Sure. We have to toast to changing your life."

"It's just a name."

He says it like it's not a tough choice. "Yeah, just a name René." He beams when I use his new name.

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><p><strong>Second Thoughts<strong>

Stanford Law School. She didn't enjoy classes for Stanford's International Policy Studies. She couldn't imagine liking law school. But the letter sat there welcoming her into the 2004-2005 year.

Northwestern. She saw the brochure for Medill School of Journalism lying on the table. She liked writing and most of her credits would transfer.

She promised to keep the family name away from the Newspaper business. Andy Sachs. Her middle name and her step father's last name.

She wants Nate and New York.

"What about your throne? Are you having second thought?"

"Maybe. Let me try for a year or two."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Flashbacks part 3

Characters: Miranda/Andrea

Word Count: 100 words or less in each of 5 drabbles

Rating: PG-13

Prompt: **mxrolkr's** Two Word Prompt Fest, who in turn inspired**pure_ecstasy6** to add to the list and gave me some ideas to work with

Summary: Five pieces as a supplement to There's Freedom in Deception

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything and I haven't used a beta at all.

A/N: I really love the idea of writing little glimpse into Andy's past. These two word prompts gives me just enough to work with. They're also easier to write on the bus every day and save the heavy writing for my home pc.  
>Prompts: Lucky One, Help Me, You're Lying, Birthday Girl, Daydreaming <p>

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><p><strong>Lucky One<strong>

"Dinner?"

"I told you I'm on that new cheese diet."

"How about you have cheese and I'll have dinner."

"God, you and your carbs. Fine, but don't cry to me when you're wearing a size 8."

We walked out of the building together, chatting as we took the subway. I wished Emily could be like this at work. Instead she was a slave to her insecurities. Miranda makes it worse with her constant comments. After too much wine Emily poured me into a cab.

"Em you're my best friend."

"Well aren't I the lucky one." I just laughed.

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><p><strong>Help Me<strong>

She heard Lars call out "help me" as she fell to the floor. Pain ripped through her like a fist tearing at her insides. The baby she thought.

Voices faded away as the pain blocked out all other stimulus. When she awoke there was no baby bump. There was nothing but the beeping of monitors.

"My daughter" she asked the doctor standing over her. She listened as they explained. She had bled out, hemorrhaging they said. "My daughter" she asked again. She felt someone grip her hand. Lars. "She's fine, rest. I'll protect her." 

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><p><strong>Your Lying<strong>

He yells "You're lying." I am and we both know it but I won't back down now. I yell back. We start the vicious circle of tearing each other apart.

We've been yelling for an hour. He's leaving. I want him to go. But first we stick and stab each other. Hurting and being hurt. The last three years of injured feelings and things swept under the rug, coming out all at once.

"You fucked another woman." I screamed out.

"You fucking love another woman." He screams back.

There can be no winner in this fight.

* * *

><p><strong>Birthday Girl<strong>

Grandmother walked out of the room after informing me of the change of plans. I'm in shock. "Hey cousin," I hear from far away. "What did grandma want?"

"She's planning a birthday party."

"Awesome. So what's the plan, birthday girl?"

"We're having a ball so I can meet someone suitable." I don't want someone suitable. I already found suitable. It didn't work. I tried to explain to her the reason why it could never work. It's a phase, she said.

It's not. I know my heart and it's been stuck on her for years.

* * *

><p><strong>Daydreaming<strong>

Look Mommy it's us. She hangs her drawing on the wall.

You draw one too she says. Draw a family mommy. She means draw our family. I draw a stick figure with blonde hair. She checks my progress and nods.

It's me, she points.

It is, I say. I draw another with brown hair.

It's you, she says.

It's me, I agree.

Make another one. We need more people.

I draw another with white hair.

Who's that?

Just a daydream honey. I kiss her head and she hangs the picture on her wall, childish writing labeling it My Family.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Flashbacks

Characters: Miranda/Andrea

Word Count: 100 words or less in each of 5 drabbles

Rating: PG-13

Prompt: mxrolkr's Two Word Prompt Fest, who in turn inspired theruinedcastle to add to the list and gave me some ideas to work with

Summary: Five pieces as a supplement to There's Freedom in Deception

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything and I haven't used a beta at all.

A/N: I really love the idea of writing little glimpse into Andy's past. These two word prompts gives me just enough to work with. They're also easier to write on the bus every day and save the heavy writing for my home pc.  
>Prompts: Background noise, Accidental Confessions, Little Feet, Broken Promise, Housewarming<p>

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><p><strong>Background Noise<strong>

"So you're just going to throw everyone away. Anyone who isn't famous. No one's good enough for you anymore."

.

She watched Lily talk, trying to tear her down and grind her under her heel, like something dirty and vile. Jealousy. She hadn't wanted to see it.  
>Lily kept spewing hateful words but it was nothing but background noise. Their friendship was dead. She turned and walked away, tears in her eyes, mourning the loss of her, of the innocence that they both had at one time.<p>

.

Lily smirked, sure Andy would call tomorrow to apologize.

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><p><strong>Accidental Confessions<strong>

"I don't love you," she said.

"In time?" He asked hopefully.

She didn't answer.

.

"I love you," he whispered while she held their newborn daughter.

"I can't," she whispered back voice breaking with a sob.

.

"Is there someone else?" He asked timidly.

"I've never cheated," she offers as a response.

.

He watched her sleep with their daughter on her chest.

"I love you," he whispers.

"Miranda," she exhales in her sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Wide Awake<br>**

Little feet and swinging fists strike her as her daughter tossed and turned in her mother's bed. Wide awake she tucked her in again and combed her fingers through her blonde hair.

.

Michael was getting married tomorrow.

.

A tiny foot kicked her in the stomach. She tucked her in once more . She smiled down at the little girl. Tomorrow they needed to get a night light and Bea into her own bed.

* * *

><p><strong>House Warming<br>**  
>"Here," he proudly pointed at the two leather chairs. "It's a house warming gift."<br>She kissed René cheek. They'd be perfect in the library.

.

She settled into the leather chair with a book and a fire in the grate. She slowly blinked, falling asleep, lulled by the warmth.

.

"Dear," a voice whispered in her ear. "Come to bed."

.

She smiled, smelling her perfume. She felt finger tips glide over her cheek. "Miranda," she breathed out. Her eyes snapped open. There was only a book and a fire and two leather chairs. Miranda would never see this library.

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><p><strong>Broken Promise<strong>

"Miranda Girl."

Her head snapped towards the voice.

"Christian."

"Hey don't be like that." He spoke as if they were friends.

"It was years ago." He reminded her as if the passage of time held sway with her emotions.

"Let me buy you dinner?" He tried to charm her.

"I'm busy today," is all she uttered.

"Well, take my card, call me." He pleaded while shoving the card into her hand.

"Promise you'll call." He implored.

"Promise," she agreed. As he turned she tossed the card into the trash. She had no qualms with a broken promise.

.

.

.

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><p>I'm messing around with formatting so let me know if this works or is too distracting. Along with what you think about the drabbles. Thanks<p> 


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